King groaned under the storm's relentless onslaught. Even in his humanoid form, his cursed energy strained against the overwhelming power of the dragoness and the crushing weight of her Dragon Fear.

  So much power… once this is over, it will be mine, he murmured, dark satisfaction flickering within him as he held his ground.

  He refused to yield. He would not fall here. This was the true beginning of his ascension, and nothing would stand in his way—not even a dragon of this magnitude. His pride roared louder than her fearsome presence, and he would not let it falter.

  His will, forged in defiance, kept him steady as the dragon’s fear and raw strength bore down on him. His cursed energy surged, growing more potent with every second, as he pushed back—inch by inch, step by step.

  This dragon is all power and unearned pride, he thought, a sneer forming in his mind. No finesse, no true skill—a mere overgrown hatchling. King’s bloodied teeth clenched, and blood flowed from the corners of his eyes as he endured the pain; I will consume her heart and ascend to heights she could only dream of.

  A plan started forming in his mind. He would use a feint, pretend to weaken while gathering his strength, and then retaliate with everything he had once the dragon had exerted itself in vain.

  King concentrated, gathering his energy while doing his best to obscure it with his aura. He allowed the clashing storm to press in on him, his barriers cracking under the strain.

  A little more, King thought, feeling the shift as the dragoness finally committed, her full weight pressing against him—but it wasn’t all she had. Her pride betrayed her, holding her back from true commitment. She overextends without conviction, he noted, a sneer flickering across his lips. Overconfident. Blind to the danger. Her powers wane, yet she spares her reserves.

  His cursed energy pulsed like a predator’s heartbeat, reading her movements, her hesitation. She had burned through a significant chunk of her reserves, yet not all. Too little, he thought with grim satisfaction, his muscles coiling in readiness, far too little to stop what comes next.

  He let his barriers shatter in quick succession. But as the last one broke, he pushed with everything he had into his Cursed Resonance Beam, combining it with the retaliatory force of his shattered barriers, unleashing a surge that pushed back and displaced the storm of ice and cold in a flash, harshly impacting the dragon and bathing her in cursed flames and resonance.

  He transformed back into his wyvern form and used Blink, teleporting next to Zarlith in an instant. His bladed tail, engulfed in cursed flames, reached a crescendo as it descended upon her neck, slicing into it.

  King felt elation, victory seemingly within his grasp—but the dragoness jerked, freezing his tail in place. Still, his accursed flames resisted her monumental power just long enough to carve through her neck and clip her wing.

  King let out an indignant, pained roar as his tail shattered under her freezing powers. The pain and loss filled him with a torrent of cursed energy and replenished his nearly tapped resource pool as his Pain to Life curse skill surged. He grimaced as he quickly analyzed the situation.

  It had been a worthwhile trade. Her wing was clipped, her neck half-severed, and she struggled to stay in the air, her eyes glassy and cold.

  King could tell she was conceptually freezing her pain and damage, but his curses still ravaged her body. She couldn’t cleanse them while trying to keep herself alive.

  I need to push! King growled at himself, drawing upon the energy flow he was siphoning out of her as he dashed to the side to evade her spiked tail. He bit down hard on her wing, feeling the cold shatter his fangs and freezing over part of his maw and skull before he let go, but not before they transmitted one of his most powerful curses. He knew biting her would harm him severely, but the sacrifice made the curse all the more vicious. He watched her strain as life force flowed into him, healing his wounds as her own life force weakened.

  King watched as his curse coursed through her, ravaging her magic channels and putting more and more strain on her dragon heart; though he wasn't worried even if it exploded, he would get recognized by the system. He would give it his all, as he couldn't afford to let up for even a second.

  He dodged another blast of acid breath, followed by a rapid swipe of Zarlith’s spiked tail, which tried to intercept him. He lurched down as her clipped wing and sudden movements caused her to lose height. King barely managed to evade the attack, his Blink skill feeling “frozen,” for lack of a better word. More and more of his abilities seemed to take longer to recharge, almost as if they were being hampered by the cold.

  Some kind of meta-effect I can't quite comprehend... but a useful one. I'll remember it, he mused, firing another beam attack at her body. Her frozen scales still provided excellent protection against his assault.

  All he needed to do was hold on, stacking more curses and damage until she withered and died. He vaguely sensed the arrival of more dragons in the distance, but he couldn’t afford to look. Zarlith’s long neck snaked out despite her injuries, and before he could dodge, her jaws latched onto his hind leg, ripping it from its socket.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The pain was overwhelming, but King used the loss and hurt to fuel his Accursed Retaliation skill to great effect. Zarlith let out a wheezing sound as the curse struck her, causing her body to seize up and her mind to buckle under the additional onslaught. The shock paralyzed her, sending her plummeting as the curse overwhelmed her.

  Alistair frowned as he noticed two more dragons approaching—red dragons from the Rhalik flight, the second most violent dragon flight on the planet, and by no means weaker or less dangerous. Fortunately, they, too, were bound by the compulsion of Draconic Ascension and landed on a distant hill, watching from afar.

  Alistair's attention snapped back to the battle as the heavily wounded Zarlith managed to latch onto King, ripping out his entire hind leg with one jerky twist of her head. The frozen wound at her neck cracked, shattering pieces of frozen scales and dragon flesh that tumbled down.

  He watched with bated breath as King powered through the pain, holding on and using Accursed Retaliation to strike back. Zarlith’s body fell from the sky, her consciousness fading, and the control keeping King's curses at bay slipped. Her Dragon Heart lost its direction, spasming as her defenses crumbled.

  Alistair’s gaze followed Zarlith's massive body as it crashed to the ground, her frozen neck shattering, her head severed from her body. King descended, his left over talon wreathed in dark flames as he tore into her body, grasping her heart and ripping it out in one swift motion.

  Alistair prepared to defend King so he could consume the heart, but the compulsion of the Draconic Ascension only grew stronger. The heart slipped from King’s talon, shrinking slightly as it hovered in front of him.

  Zarlith's body began to fall apart, crimson mana particles rising from her form, weaving intricate bands of draconic magic script that wrapped around the heart. Her body rapidly disintegrated, turning into more magical bands as all her records coalesced into the heart.

  King huffed, barely able to balance himself on his remaining hind leg and wings, his draconic eyes mesmerized by the display before him. Bands of energy started to flow from him into the heart, connecting him to it. His gaze grew relaxed, almost peaceful, as power began to build within the heart.

  Alistair and Riseth didn’t need to exchange words or even a glance; both focused intently on the powerful magic ritual unfolding before them. Their bodies remained frozen in place as they tried their utmost to glean insights from the intricate draconic rune magic displayed in front of them. The bands of energy moved almost too fast for their eyes to perceive, and Alistair did his best to slow his perception of time to learn as much as he could.

  As the magic neared its peak, Alistair felt a moment of unease, fearing it might explode from the sheer concentration of power—but it stabilized almost instantly, emanating a crimson and golden glow.

  They all stared at the heart—most in awe and some of the dragons in disbelief. Without much preamble, King snapped at the heart, consuming it whole. A blinding golden light enveloped him, so intense that even Alistair’s conceptual awareness couldn’t see through it.

  It lasted but a few moments before vanishing, along with the compulsion that came with the Draconic Ascension. Alistair and Riseth didn’t hesitate, teleporting next to King, ready to defend him.

  But King didn’t need their protection. As they laid eyes on him, they beheld his new dragon body in all its glory.

  King was now larger than any of the dragons present, his form having retained much of his wyvern origin, but now with four powerful legs, marking his transition into a true dragon. His body’s black armor and scales covered nearly every inch of him, his red and magenta feathers gleaming in the dull light of the flowing molten rock. They were clearly more lethal and robust than before. His head had taken on a slightly more draconic shape but was still recognizable. The end of his tail now resembled a curved, wicked black blade—far more fearsome than the already deadly tail he had before. His irises glowed gold, with black lines arcing out like lightning from his dark pupils, and the Dragon Fear he emitted washed over the area, causing the other dragons to shrink back.

  Alistair felt that his connection to King was frayed and fragile, something that could be torn apart if either of them willed it. But King made no attempt to sever it, and Alistair quickly realized they had both leveled up—five whole levels. King’s new Dragon Heart pulsed with incredible power, and Alistair could sense potent cursed energy coursing through his massive form. His armored face turned toward him, revealing sharp, glistening fangs as he spoke.

  "Your worry is appreciated but unnecessary. Pick the ones you wish to tear apart, and I’ll content myself with those left," King said imperiously, self-satisfaction evident as he basked in his new power, eager to test it out. No longer hampered by wounds and more powerful than ever before.

  Alistair inspected the remaining dragons, watching for any signs of movement or interesting concepts that would make them worthwhile targets. Earlier, they had shown clear hostility, but the compulsion of the Draconic Ascension had stopped them from acting. Now, however, their hostility had shifted to fear and worry—King had evolved into an even higher-tier dragon than them.

  He felt a bit disappointed that the female dragon’s body had been completely consumed by the Draconic Ascension ritual, something not mentioned in the few sources they had found about evolutionary methods, as that particular dragon's concept would have been of great help to his sister.

  The other dragons kept their eyes locked on King, and Alistair checked his Summoning skill to confirm what kind of dragon King had evolved into. King had become a Vexaldris Progenitor. Based on the species' name and the powerful cursed energy radiating from him, Alistair confirmed that King had ascended into a brand-new species of dragon, deeply intertwined with the concept of curses. King’s cursed energy now pulsated through his Dragon Heart instead of just mana—a modification to the dragon heart not too dissimilar to what Alistair had been hoping for his own heart.

  Alistair was sure most other species would have fled, but the pride of a dragon wasn't a simple thing. With King's declaration, they couldn't simply leave and pretend they had lost interest. The black dragons, having lost one of their brood, seemed to steel themselves. As for the red dragons, while one readied himself for combat, the other raised her head high.

  "I wish not to fight. I recognize your superiority and seek to bear your offspring," the unknown red dragoness declared.

  The other red dragon looked at her with what Alistair sensed was shock and a mix of panic, while the black dragons radiated similar outrage in their auras.

  "Have some respect for yourself, Rovari," the other red dragon snapped.

  "I do not wish to face a clearly superior breed of dragon. I would rather become part of that lineage than let mine end here," Rovari retorted, her yellow eyes never breaking contact with King’s gaze.

  "Clever girl," King grumbled, eying her with curiosity.